This was Wanda's first time seeing an entire city draped in mourning. The sight struck her deeply, and she wanted to get out and walk around.
Daisy had no objection. They left the car and slowly made their way along the street.
Wanda placed flowers before a photograph of an older woman, then stood there for a while. She could empathize with the grief of the family members, but that grief still felt distant from her.
After lingering for a moment, she finally stepped away from the crowd and told Daisy what she had felt. "They loved their families very much..."
"Who doesn't love their family? May they rest in peace..." Ordinary people needed extraordinary luck just to survive in this godforsaken Marvel universe. Daisy's thoughts wandered, but halfway through her sentence, she froze.
What religion was Wanda supposed to follow? Given her biological father Magneto's heritage, she should be Jewish, right? Perhaps Lorna was as well?
Should Daisy respect the customs of their bloodline, or simply let them grow up without guidance? Happy Hanukkah? The thought felt strangely awkward.
She quickly threw the question aside. Magneto had fathered children all over the world without worrying about it, so why was she overthinking things?
As they continued down the street, many homes had been reduced to rubble. Some families had perished entirely, while others had only one or two survivors. Photographs of the dead stood on front steps, surrounded by candles and neatly arranged yellow and white carnations. Whether they had known the victims or not, passersby lowered their voices and paid their respects.
Safer, well-policed neighborhoods retained a solemn atmosphere, but less orderly districts were another matter. As night fell, criminal activity erupted at ten times its usual intensity.
People broke into homes and stole the residents' last scraps of food, or gathered in groups to raid convenience stores and take everything in sight. Anyone who resisted was shot.
The ceaseless gunfire and wail of police sirens became a defining feature of New York's nights.
Should I do something? Daisy asked herself as she watched, but after thinking for a long time, she still had no idea what could be done. Forget her—even if Washington and Lincoln climbed out of their coffins, they would have no solution.
The alien invasion had shattered the balance between social classes. Crime resurged, and even many honest, law-abiding people took pistols into the streets. They had nothing left and could only rob others for the necessities they desperately needed.
The best solution would be a curfew: keep everyone inside and deploy the military to maintain order. It sounded good, but Daisy knew it was unrealistic. The political and social realities of the United States made it impossible.
West African countries could impose curfews. New Guinea or somewhere similar could as well. America could not, and New York, with a population in the tens of millions, had even less chance.
She could only find another way. If official methods were impossible, she would use unofficial ones.
Daisy drove into the familiar streets of Hell's Kitchen, twisting through several turns before reaching Kingpin's headquarters. The sign by the entrance identified the place as Union Allied Construction, the company that had once made her deeply uncomfortable.
She parked in the distance, told Wanda to wait for her, closed the door, and walked inside.
Daisy had no intention of wasting words on the rough men guarding the entrance. She bent the visible light around her body and walked straight past them.
Kingpin's men appeared noticeably stronger than the other gangs in the city. Training was one factor; their willingness to fight without hesitation was another.
She walked all the way to Kingpin without anyone in the room, including the man himself as he read a book, noticing her. Daisy released her invisibility and lightly brought one heel down on the floor with a thud.
"Who's there?" The gangsters watched a living person appear from thin air and fumbled for their pistols. Bullseye, standing farther away, drew a dagger from inside his coat and cocked his wrist to throw it.
Their movements did not look quite as slow as snails to Daisy, but they were hardly fast. Bullseye was relatively quick. In her judgment, his throwing skill had already surpassed normal human limits.
Daisy ignored the many pistols. She was nowhere near Magneto's level, but if she was prepared, those guns would never fire.
She studied Kingpin. The man was enormous—two meters tall (about 6'7") and more than two hundred kilograms (over 440 pounds), standing there like a thick wall.
At 177 centimeters (about 5'10"), Daisy was tall for a woman, but Kingpin made her look much shorter. She chose to sit down for the conversation.
"Mr. Fisk—or should I call you Kingpin?" Ignoring the weapons pointed at her, she asked with perfect politeness.
Kingpin waved to his men, indicating that everything was fine, then ordered them all to leave.
Only after Bullseye closed the door did he speak in his deep voice. "What brings Miss Johnson away from her luxurious villa and into my place?"
Half an hour later, Bullseye grew concerned for Kingpin's safety and opened the door. Daisy had been gone for quite some time. Other than a faint fragrance lingering in the room, nothing suggested an outsider had ever been there.
Kingpin ignored Bullseye and remained seated on the sofa, thinking.
"She came to warn us?" Bullseye believed he had guessed Daisy's purpose.
Kingpin shook his head. "She wants to supply us with a batch of advanced weapons from Hammer Industries so we can unify New York's underworld."
The answer left Bullseye stunned. He was an intelligent man, and after a moment's thought, he realized how unusual the proposal was. "What are her conditions? Give up the human-trafficking business or the drug trade?"
Kingpin shook his head again. "She won't allow us to bribe police officers or government officials."
"That's all?"
"That's all."
Bullseye considered it from every angle. "That doesn't sound unreasonable. We can save the money, recruit more people, and expand our territory instead."
The current Kingpin was not yet the emperor of the underworld. Limited by his knowledge and perspective, he could not see how much a partnership between legal authority and organized crime could affect the existing order. Without James Wesley advising him, his position was far weaker than in the original timeline.
The military weapons Daisy offered were extremely tempting. He had agreed immediately, but now he felt a little uncertain. Unfortunately, Bullseye was not a man of extraordinary foresight either. The prospect of unifying New York's underworld was such a windfall that it went to both men's heads.
The first day after the Battle of New York passed amid pain and tears. Every church was filled beyond capacity, and countless clergy members worked almost without rest to comfort the public. Whatever scandals they might normally have, they were doing their jobs well when it came to soothing frightened hearts.
Call it hypocrisy or performance if you liked. Whatever they truly thought, Daisy believed they deserved recognition as long as they fulfilled their responsibilities.
She spent the entire morning attending funerals.
She could attend those near New York, but she had no time for funerals in other cities or countries.
Daisy barely knew any of the fallen agents. They had little contact with her as Deputy Director, so she did not need to make speeches at their funerals simply to draw attention to herself. Ensuring they received official recognition for sacrificing their lives for the country was enough to satisfy her conscience.